Requiem
by crazedPony
Summary: Miranda Mossman has a problem. Apparently she is insane, and apparently the guy walking around with the big knife and twisted take on the Hippocratic Oath is her doctor. I rewrote the old version...cause it was lame
1. My little box

For a good portion of my life I believed that the sinners were dammed to hell while the innocent were spared. How deluded was I. Accused of a crime I didn't commit I now reside in the tenth level of hell, an innocent awaiting a fate that makes death the ultimate release. I am so very afraid. I fear my words have lost all credibility, I fear that there is no escape, but most of all I fear him and what he will do to me. I have heard the tortured screams and whispers of the other patients. I know that just beyond the door to my cell lies a chamber of suffering. And I know that my time is coming...

* * *

Miranda woke suddenly form her restless sleep, her bitter sweet dreams fading fast as horrid reality hit her once more. She rolled over and grimaced, her sheets and cloths were soaked with sweat and the cold air clung to every bit of her exposed skin. She sat up and took a deep breath of stale air before pulling her knees to her chest in a desperate attempt to keep warm. The dark cramped cell which she had called home for the last few days was devoid of any heating. The only source of light was a small round glass window that looked out into the corridor beyond and all that produced was a pathetic shaft of light. Not that Miranda minded the dark. Over the past few days she had come to view the darkness and solitude as a blessing rather than a curse. As ridiculous and childish as it may seem, she had convinced herself that it concealed her from the horror that lay outside. Yes, as long as she stayed in the darkness she couldn't be seen.

Miranda rubbed her temples in an attempt to ease the constant throbbing in her head. The violent migraines had plagued her from the moment she had awoken in her cell scared, disorientated and alone. A soft sob escaped her throat as her mind churned and frothed like an ocean in the grip of a tempest. Fragmented memories bloomed and then disappeared before she could make any sense of them. The only memory that remained painfully sharp was that of the voices. The horrific sounds of terror and rage; screaming, shouting terrified voices that surrounded and overwhelmed her. And there was the blood too. That blasted sticky crimson liquid that dripped from her fingers and soaked her cloths. Every where she looked there was nothing but blood and carnage. Fear and rage gripped her feeding off one another until all thought became a dull thrum at the back of her mind. Miranda gave a soft groan and threw her head against the hard pillow, desperately trying to piece together the puzzle that was her mind.

Suddenly the sound of heavy footsteps approaching reached her ears. She fixed her panic stricken attention on the wall listening intently to the growing activities beyond her cell. Her mind consumed by only one thought, _Oh god they are coming for me_. Trembling violently she scampered off the bed and pressed herself into the corner where, half stiff with terror she waited. Fear stifled her breathing as the footsteps grew nearer to her cell. She closed her eyes; her heart beat so violent that it was almost suffocating; her rags damp with the cold sweat of agony; she lay motionless by the wall, her mouth wide open, under the single ray of light, praying. The footsteps rose before gradually dissipating to a soft thump. "Oh Christ" She gasped in rugged breaths. Swallowing the lump which had formed in her throat, she threw back her head and closed her eyes tightly. Waiting for death was painful, but in here death itself was a fate you would not wish upon any man. A high pitched scream caused Miranda to once again sit bolt upright, the good doctor had undoubtedly chosen his latest victim. A mans screams and pleas resonated throughout the corridors of the elaborate maze as he was no doubt forcefully removed from his cell. "No please I can feel it I swear!"

"I said shut up."

"I am much better now. I-I don't need any more..."

A sickening thwack silenced the terrified man before he could finish his sentence. From the corner of her cell Miranda listened as an unconscious body was dragged passed, a soft moan trailing along with it. As the troop passed through the corridor the sound of softly quarreling voices wormed their way into her cell. "I just think it's cruel," a male voice spoke up. Intrigued by the conversation and the thought of someone sympathetic to her plight, Miranda softly slid from her corner and crept towards the door. "Its not as if they don't suffer enough as it is, you know, with out us beating them. I mean..."

"Suffering, Pete, is what the families of his victims went through when they found their loved ones in pieces!" The tall man's outburst was met by silence. Pete, whoever he was, apparently didn't feel like arguing. "And besides," the tall man continued, "this ones off down to the operating theatre. The way I see it I am doing the bastard a favor." A series of tortuous images flashed through Miranda's head making her shudder. Again the footsteps began to fade in the other direction, but not before Pete, who still stood outside her cell muttered a barely audible reply. It was a reply that shot a feeling of warmth and hope through her core.

"It's just not right."


	2. The Devil's right hand man

The tungsten light on the office ceiling flickered, desperate to stay alight as the precious energy needed to sustain it was leeched for a more sinister use. Below it the two occupants of the room looked up disapprovingly. "I thought we agreed to have this fixed?" The younger of the two men shifted his gaze towards his colleague who remained silent, still looking up in a trance like state at the light. Jasper Marr sighed and put down the specimen jar which he had been examining so intently before being disturbed. The jar was one of many which adorned the office, each a decaying tribute to Dr Vannacutt's excesses. Jasper smiled inwardly, and his too of course. The bulb resumed its former unfaltering glow, allowing Vannacutt to grant his colleague the courtesy of his gaze. "Four seconds at four hundred volts." he muttered a hard edge to his voice. Jasper frowned as he pulled the chair out and sat with his characteristic cat like grace. "I thought this group was scheduled for two seconds at three ten?"

"They were," Vannacutt's voice darkened noticeably as he continued. "Dr Jenzen is, apparently, laboring under the delusion that he possesses the authority to do as he pleases with my patients."

Jasper scowled at the mention of Adolphus Jenzen, the bitter contempt he held for the man blatantly obvious. "Awfully audacious of him," he muttered before looking to Vannacutt to gage his feelings on the matter. There was certainly no love lost between Vannacutt and Jenzen either. Their once strong friendship had long since rotted away to a some what volatile, tolerance. In fact, Jasper was of the strong conviction that if it weren't for Adolphus's propensity to dispense relentless vengeance upon those who wronged him, he would have been 'discreetly expelled' from their troop long ago. Much to his disappointment however Adolphus, with his ruthless cunning, was a potentially explosive threat that even Vannacutt dare not ignite. Still, always eager to throw the cat among the pigeons Jasper wasn't one to pass up the opportunity to degenerate Dr Jenzen. "You know this arrogance of his will only worsen over time, and despite what Carlos says I am sure Price is deliberately goading Jenzen's defiance for his own ends." He chewed on his lip thoughtfully, "perhaps it's time you shortened Jenzen's leash."

Vannacutt leant forward and tossed a folder on his mahogany desk. "Perhaps, though his medical blunders are the least of my concerns at the moment." Jasper's wandering attention snapped back to his friend, a look of bewilderment on his face. "You're not going to reprimand him?" he flustered, not bothering to hide the frustration in his voice. Vannacutt shook his head at the brazen outburst of bitter disappointment. "As necessary as it may be to put the good Dr Jenzen back in his place..." he pushed the folder into Jasper's hands "I am afraid there are other, more pressing matters that demand our attention."

Jasper stared down at the folder for a moment before reluctantly flipping open the cover and scanning the mass of news paper articles, the biggest and boldest of which read, _MASSACRE AT THE MOSSMAN'S._ The surgeon gave a curt laugh, "people are so easily entertained these days_."_ He read on seemingly unmoved by the horrific tale in front of him, digging through the various police reports and photos detailing a series of gruesome scenes. "So this is Ms Mossman's handy work is it?" Jasper chucked the folder back on the desk and wiped his hands against the arms of his chair, almost as if the contents had some how sullied his immaculately groomed self. "They really are a vile blight on humanity aren't they. Thank god we can remove them from society, keep the rest of the decent masses safe from their corruption. I don't understand why this is so urgent though." He paused and looked up at Vannacutt who was now reclining deeply in his chair, hands folded neatly in his lap.

"You can't seriously be considering..." Jasper's jaw dropped slightly as he was cut short by the smirk which had formed on his friends face. All of Dr Marr's former moodiness melted away and was replaced instead with sheer horror. "Richard, she is far too volatile. It would be pure folly to risk moving her constantly. And besides, I thought we had all agreed to leave her in isolation to rot."

"Honestly Jasper." Vannacutt stood suddenly and gave his friend a dismissive wave. "Did you really think I would pass up the opportunity to study a specimen as interesting as her?"

"You already have one like her." Jasper interjected suddenly, his voice undercut with a slight edge of disgust. "We studied him, and what did we reap from our efforts?" The question was purely rhetorical but he still paused for effect. "A mountain of paper work explaining why we had to send an orderly home to his family with bite sized chunks of flesh missing from his face and arms, a dead security guard and a mass of ignorant morons..." he looked over his shoulder nervously and continued in a more subdued tones, "a mass of ignorant fools snooping around in places we rather not have them pocking their noses."

Vannacutt stared down at Jasper unmoved, his eyes taking on a dark, hollow look. "One can hardly let such trifling inconveniences hinder our progress." He moved to stand beside Jasper who shifted uncomfortably and turned away, not daring to challenge the contemptuous gaze. Vannacutt folded his hands behind his back and started to pace. "You really must learn to control that incessant fear of yours Jasper. The patients can sense such weaknesses." Jasper opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it. An argument with Vannacutt could lead to only one conclusion and he hadn't the energy or will power to go through that again. The good doctor caught the look of defeat on Jasper's face and continued, "and your weakness is their strength. So unless you wish to end up at the receiving end of Mr. Lester's fists again I suggest you at least learn to conceal it." Jasper cringed at the painful reminder of his oh so embarrassing indiscretion. He combed his fingers through his hair - a nervous habit he had developed during adolescence and never really grown out of- and turned back to the folder filled with pages of Vannacutt's neat script. "So, I take it you wish to call for a general evaluation then?"

There was an unmistakable gleam in Vannacutt's eye as he began to plan the varying intricacies of his new patient's treatments. There was nothing quite like an untarnished, blank canvas to inspire and energize one's creativity. "Precisely," he continued to pace back and forth around the office, "schedule it for twelve o'clock. That should give Dr. Oliveri time to finish with his current patients."

Jasper nodded, "I'll get Ms Weis to circulate the memo." He picked up a pen from Vannacutt's desk and started to tap it absent mindedly against his leg, "I take it you wish Jenzen and Price to be present as well?" For those accustom to Jasper's subtle language there was no mistaking the venomous jab directed at Vannacutt's failure to reign in Jenzen's growing insolence. Vannacutt certainly recognized it. He stopped his pacing to give Jasper a disapproving look, "of course." _Apparently Price and Jenzen aren't the only ones who need to be reminded of their place Dr Marr_, Vannacutt thought with a degree of dry amusement. "Jasper," he begun, the word deliberately clipped and direct, "as amusing as your previous altercations with Adolphus have been the recent escalation has become rather disconcerting."

Jasper stopped scribbling his notes and looked up with feigned confusion, "escalation?"

"Don't play the dense fool Jasper. It doesn't suit you," Vannacutt snapped.

"If you are referring to the incident at the charity ball I had absolutely nothing to do with that. Jenzen got sloshed and made a fool of himself." Jasper had to suppress the glee that started to creep into his voice as he continued. "You can't possibly hold me responsible for his drunken escapades."

An obvious flicker of irritation crossed Vannacutt's face at Jasper's insubordination. He was well aware of his colleague's inclination toward compulsive lying and manipulation but for Jasper to turn them against him, and in such a half hearted manner, was an out right insult to his intelligence. Vannacutt had always been wry of these qualities in his colleague. Even when he had first met Jasper as young promising surgeon the seeds of wicked insecurity were already firmly taking root. A Quiet and illusive character, Jasper was generally considered to be anti social and aloof, by his fellow peers. "He is a hard one to put your finger on," Dr Munroe had told him, as they had walked through the university halls all those years ago. "I don't know whether to attribute his odd quality to arrogance or shyness. Though it hardly matters, whatever the mask insecurity is insecurity. I honestly think you will have your hands full with this one." Sure enough Vannacutt had not been disappointed, with Jasper demonstrating his innate ability to deconstruct one's character upon their first meeting. It also quickly became apparent to Vannacutt that the young doctor tended to avoid direct confrontation in favour of using and abusing his gift to manipulate others. Unsurprisingly he found himself having to constantly stamp out his authority over the petulant Dr. Marr, even more so than he did with Jenzen. Still, Vannacutt had known even then, that if he channeled Jasper's gift and medical skills correctly and 'managed' his other less desirable characteristics, he had found himself a viable tool through which he could further his research. Over time Jasper had become more receptive to the chain of command and had indeed turned out to be an indispensable asset. But like all good tools a decent tuning was still needed every so often, as was currently the case.

With out saying a word Vannacutt paced over to his desk and removed something small and clear from the bottom draw. Jasper tensed as he craned his head to see just what exactly Vannacutt was up to, though the wily Dr Marr had a fair idea as too what it may be. Vannacutt placed a small clear vial on the desk top, spinning it over so that the label was visible.

Jasper looked down at the empty vial. "Ah."

"Dissolved Phencyclidine," Vannacutt announced.** "**Dr Thropp realized it was missing from his stores two days ago. I am sure you a well aware of its affects, as I am equally sure you happen to know where this particular empty vial was found."

Jasper picked up the vial, raised it eye level and studied it. He had been so careful, how the smoking gun had managed to end up in Vannacutt's hands?

"As I was saying, these petty school boy antiques you and Jenzen have resorted to are beginning to intrude on our professional practices. On top of that they are very quickly wearing my patients thin. You may have succeeded in humiliating Adolphus, but in doing so you also damaged the good name of this institution and by extension my reputation. I am willing to forgive your improprieties so long as you and Adolphus sort out this childish rivalry of yours quickly, and civilly."

Jasper nodded sullenly. It would be foolish to do anything other than concede the point. One certainly didn't willingly mess with Vannacutt's reputation, unless they were a fool. It was after all, something the good doctor prized above everything else. Jasper tore the page of his scribbled notes from the pad and started to gather up the folder with Ms Mossman's charts and profile. Not particularly eager to be further dressed down he made to leave, tapping the small piece of paper with his index finger; "I'll get this to Ms Weis." It was a half decent excuse.

"Dr. Marr."

The sudden cold formality caused the young surgeon hesitate. "Yes doctor." Jasper returned with equal insincerity. There was after all a certain degree of safety in the simple sycophantic reply.

"This is the last I will say on the matter." He glared at Jasper with an intensity that could have reduced any sane person to a quivering wreck. That one look alone spoke volumes of the severity of the punishment that awaited should this matter go unresolved.

Jasper blinked nervously, and offered a fake smile, "of course." He stood, straightened his jacket and made for the door -perhaps a little too quickly- and closed it gently behind him. Alone in the empty corridor he gave a deep sigh. This was shaping up to be a pretty bloody awful day. He combed his fingers through his black, slicked back hair. _I guess it would be prudent to remove the open bottle of Chloroform from Jenzen's office, _he thought offhandedly as he began down the winding corridor.


End file.
